Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy
by Altsoba
Summary: The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. A short viginette from Sam's point of view. You are free to gasp now, I wrote a Sam fic! Probably not what you think, or maybe it is. Enjoy!


Wow, I had forgotten about writing this one. Dedicated to my faithful reader Alantie, this one's for you my friend!

I don't own them... I wish I could say that I did...

This would be towards the beginning of season three, if ya'll couldn't tell

* * *

Happy Happy Joy Joy 

I take a small, furtive glance back at my brother in the car. Something tearing at the back of my mind that what I had previously thought was a good idea was in fact, the exact opposite.

Placing my money on the counter, I collect the many bags of chips, jerky and candy that are going to sustain us through several days of the road and head back to the thing in the car. Ever since the demon was destroyed my brother has been changed, and I feel that I am partly to blame.

Dean's hands were fused to the steering wheel with a white knuckle intensity, his arms rigid as steel. Green eyes locked forward in a drug induced glare. I could almost hear the hard plastic of the steering wheel groan as Dean's fingers continued in their attempts to meld into it.

On top of it all I could see the high tension wire shiver through his body, the barely perceptible jitters vibrating my older brother's frame.

Originally, the Energ-eze I had found sitting next to the cash register had seemed like a life saver from the apathy that had engulfed Dean lately. It wasn't that Dean was overly depressed, if I hadn't have known my brother as well as I do I would never have noticed.

It was just my misguided judgment that lead me to believe that giving my brother bottled crack would help perk him up, at least until I could find some other way to get the old Dean back.

I had waited until Dean was in the shower to put my plan in motion. Hunting out his stash of beef jerky and dumping five packets each into all four open bags of the dried and seasoned meat, I didn't dare open any of the others for fear of arising Dean's suspicion. Shaking the bags to spread the grainy powder I picked a piece out to see if the stuff was noticeable. I was just lucky that Dean prefers the sticky Teriyaki flavor; the goo was enough to dissolve the Energ-eze.

I also poured a packet of the stuff into the coffee, how much of this stuff had I bought?

This is how I ended up in the situation I found myself in now. I noticed Dean's eye twitching in the driver seat and asked him again if he thought I should drive.

"No, I'mfinewhywouldyouneedtodrive?" I don't think he realized he was nearly shouting.

Dean's grin was slightly crazed as he squealed the tires on the pavement, rubber smoke pouring out from under the car. I reached my hand over slowly and pushed the park brake off. I was certain then that my death would be at the hands of the gas pumps behind us as we rushed uncontrollably backwards. At the last second Dean swung the wheel around, fishtailing slightly we roared out of the parking lot and down the deserted highway.

"Dean please, I think I should drive," I nearly screamed. I was pressed back into the seat about as far as I could go, one hand clutching at the seat belt while the other gripped the door.

"Ihadthatundercontrol,we'refineSam. Everythingisundercontrol!"

The speedometer jumped to ninety and kept climbing higher. We were lucky that there were no other cars on the road but I could still see the fiery explosion we were going to cause when we met up with anyone. I also expected to see the flashing lights of a cop any moment; I couldn't imagine how I was going to explain this one.

We drove like that for I don't know how long. The rush of adrenaline in my system had made me dizzy. When Dean finally decided to skid the Impala to a stop outside a motel I nearly fell out the door with relief, landing on my ass in dust cloud we had kicked up coming in. My legs didn't seem to want to support me, not believing that they were finally on solid ground again.

By the time I had managed to recover Dean was already carrying our bags to the room I hadn't noticed him getting. We were on the tail end of a small town out in the middle of nowhere. I could just see the other mom and pop stores and a few other houses in the distance.

"ComeonSam!" Dean's voice was sing-songing out the door, he almost appeared to be skipping. "We need to run! I think we need some ice-cream!"

I could only stare up from my spot in the dirt. I was having trouble deciding if Dean singing his sentences was worse them him nearly shouting them at me.

* * *

I don't know why Dean's high has lasted this long, nor why it has been as severe as it was. Maybe it was a reaction between the coffee, and the beef jerky, or the pills I put in both. The only thing I know is that I have at least three more bags from Dean's stash to go.

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Just a random bit o fluff 


End file.
